Tales of the supernatural

Thursday

Oct 28, 2010 at 2:00 AM

It was 1930 and she was 9 years old, standing at the sink at the orphanage farm school in Mount Vernon, N.Y., where she came to live after her mother died. Her two brothers and sister lived at other buildings in the school, had other chores, but for tonight it fell to her to wash the dinner dishes.

Laura Dolce

It was 1930 and she was 9 years old, standing at the sink at the orphanage farm school in Mount Vernon, N.Y., where she came to live after her mother died. Her two brothers and sister lived at other buildings in the school, had other chores, but for tonight it fell to her to wash the dinner dishes.

With the sleeves on her work dress pushed above her elbows, she submerged her arms into the soapy water, then raised her eyes to the window above the sink. She froze.

There, looking back at her from the window, was a woman with dark eyes and her hair pulled back. Her dress was old-fashioned, but that wasn't the most startling fact about her.

She was floating in mid-air, looking in a window on the second story.

***

It was 10 years later and the girl had grown up. She'd left the orphanage behind and had found a good position as a governess with a nice family in Pelham Manor. She had Sunday evenings off and was just returning from a visit with her father when she saw a very small man up ahead. He was oddly dressed, and banging a pewter tankard on the iron stakes of a fence surrounding one of the estates.

He seemed a little worse for the drink, she thought as she made to pass him. He was singing a song off-key, and wearing what looked like a costume from days gone by.

She passed by a few feet away, hurrying to get back to the house, but glanced back a step or two away.

The street was empty — the man had disappeared.

***

She was a young mother, working in a munitions factory in the Bronx while her husband served overseas. Money was tight, and times were hard, with no one to watch their baby daughter while she worked.

Her daughter Barbie's godmother had offered to take the baby to Vermont for a few weeks, to help look after her. While she reluctantly accepted, the young mother worried about sending her daughter so far away.

That worry grew so strong one night that she ran to the station and took a train to Vermont. Once there, she made her way to the house where her daughter was staying, but all was dark.

She was able to get in the front door of the two-family home, but when she went up the stairs to the second floor apartment, a tall shape blocked her way.

In the shadowy hallway she could just make out the shape of a tall man, with a top hat and tuxedo. There was no clear face, however, just a shadow. As she approached he inclined his head toward her and made a noise that sounded like, "hm, hm," almost by way of a greeting.

Startled, she rushed back down the stairs to get the landlady, and returned with the woman in tow. Though the woman couldn't see anything, she still saw the shape of the man, his snowy white shirt bright in the gloom of the stairs, his top hat tall as he inclined his head and repeated, "hm, hm."

Frightened, she returned downstairs with the landlady and waited until her friend and her family returned. When they did she discovered her baby had been upstairs alone the whole time, asleep in her crib.

No one was watching her — except for the spirit on the stairs.

***

While all of these stories make fine tales for Halloween, they all have a few things in common. First, they all happen to be true. Second, they all happened to the same woman. And third, that woman was my grandmother.

My grandmother — or Nana as we called her — had unexplained things happen to her her whole life. She saw things no one else could see, knew things she shouldn't have known, had "feelings" that somehow came true.

It was often a burden, and occasionally a gift, but to her grandchildren growing up, it was always fascinating.

At this time of year, I often think of my Nana and her spooky stories. I also think of her promise to come back and "haunt" me when she passed away.

It's been a few years, though, and she hasn't shown up yet. Somehow the thought of her showing up someday isn't scary at all.

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